Gallagher Girls: 12 years later
by rachelreader98
Summary: 12 years after graduation, Zach and Cammie are working as free agents worldwide. Bex is still at MI6, and Macey now works part time with secret service and spends the rest of her hours creating spy-tech with Liz. Rachel and Joe are happily married, and continue to work together at the new Gallagher Academy. Abby and Edward married as well, and have a 5 year old daughter.
1. Chapter 1: Cammie

Chapter One – Cammie

When I wake, I don't panic. My wrists and ankles are bound to a cold metal chair with a thick rope. The cellar is fifteen feet long and fifteen feet wide. There is a set of stairs that lead to a metal door. "Think, Cammie, Think," I tell myself. How did I get here? Where is Zach? Who is holding me? I try to remember. The last thing that I remember is introducing myself to Hakim Ketab. That's right, Zach and I were undercover.

I can dwell on that later but I need to get out of here. I notice they took all my weapons and my jacket. _Amateurs_. I click the left heel of my shoes twice on the hard ground and a short, sharp blade pops out. _Thank you, Liz_ _and Macey, for blending fashion and spy gear together._ I am able to use my feet and the blade to start cutting the knot out. It takes me a good ten minutes, but they are free.

As soon as I kick the rope off my feet, the door opens. Light pours into the room, and I see a man appear. _Profile him._ Black male, 5'11", about 180 pounds. Not seeming to notice I am halfway free, he casually walks down the steps and says. "Bonjour, Mademoiselle." From his accent, I can tell he lives in the French Maghreb, so Morocco, Algeria, Tunisia, or Mauritania. I reply, "Bonjour…"

"Monsieur Djaout," he finished my sentence with his name.

"Ah, Bonjour Monsieur Djaout. Pouvez-vous me dire pourquoi je suis ici?" I ask him why I am here.

"Je suis désolé, je ne peux vous dire que maintenant." He tells me he's sorry but he can't. _Liar._

"Non, _Je_ suis désolé." No, I am sorry. At that moment, I stood up and rammed my chair into him, slamming him into the wall. He falls to the ground, and I bring my right foot toward his face and yell, "Vogue!" _Gotta love Macey for that one. _ A mist sprays out of the ball of my foot, and before the man man can react he's fallen helpless to the newest version of Napotine.

I run up the steps and open the door, ready to make a run for it. I find myself in a small home built out of sand and mud and look out the window. _Desert_. There are two guards outside the building, so I quietly tiptoe to the other side of the room and grab my jacket and handgun. I reach into the pocket of my jacket and grab what looks like a tube of lipstick. I twist the top, sending a signal out to Liz of my location. I sneak up behind the two guards and slap two napotine patches on the back of their necks simultaneously. _Easy._ Now I just have to wait.


	2. Chapter 2: Zach

Chapter Two – Zach

I am sitting on the soft bed in the hotel room, worried sick. It's 0100 and Cammiehasn't checked in_. She said she would check in by 0045. _I know something is wrong.

Everything was going as planned. Cammie and I were under cover as honeymooners in Marsailles. Our legend was spotless. I was a very rich American businessman, and Cammie was my new French wife. _What went wrong, Gallagher girl, what went wrong?_

**Covert Operations Report**

Operatives Morgan and Goode (hereafter referred to as "The Operatives") arrived and checked in at InterContinental Marseille hotel at 0900 Tuesday morning. The Operatives met at Hakim Ketab's office across the square at 1500 Tuesday to discuss investments. While at the office, The Operatives studied the building and left without making any deals. At 0000 Wednesday, Operative Morgan attempted to break into the office and steal the Classified File on France's Minister of Foreign Affairs. Operative Goode was in the hotel on the comms unit ready to be backup. Everything was going as planned, until Operative Morgan decided to leave range of the comms unit without giving reason, but she promised to check in in a half hour. Operative Goode tried to convince her not to, but Operative Morgan is a stubborn woman.

I should have run after her. Why does she always run? Why can't she just do what she is supposed to and stay _safe._

Thirty seconds later, I decided I could wait no longer. I call Liz on her cell.

"Hey Zach, what's up?" She says after a ring and a half.

"Cammie. She's not checked in. I don't know where she is, Liz, WHERE IS SHE?" I reply.

"Wait, wait. Hold up. Where are you?"

"Sitting in the at InterContinental Marseille hotel."

"Okay, where is Cammie supposed to be?"

"Well she was supposed to grab a file out of Hakim Ketab's office and get the hell out of there. But Cammie saw something and ran after it. WHY DOES SHE ALWAYS RUN?"

"I have no idea, Zach, but it's made her a good spy. Her gut is almost always right."

"Well it doesn't matter if her gut is right or wrong if she's detained, or worse." _Do not think about that, Zac. Cammie's too good to go out this way._

"Okay, her cell phone is still in the office, according to my tracking device. Her emergency beacon can't be traced unless she activates it. I'm going to hack into the security cameras at the office to see if she's still there."

"Okay, Liz. We've gotta find her. We just have to…"

"-Got it!" she cuts me off. "I'm looking at the feeds now. She's nowhere in the building. What time did she run out of range?"

"0015."

"Well at 0014 I have footage of her leaving the back door of the building with a file in hand. She seems to be following something, or someone. I have no idea who."

"Can you do anything?"

"Cammie is the best spy in the field. She'll get herself out. She's survived worse you know."

"When did Elizabeth Sutton become so positive?" I ask.

"When did Zachary Goode become so anxious?"

"When I fell in love." I hang up.


	3. Chapter 3

_Author's Note: Thank you to everyone who has reviewed and read my story! This is my first time on FanFiction so please bear with me. I will try and get a chapter out each week if I can. Any criticism is welcomed! I'm not looking for praise, I'm looking for critique so I can improve my writing. Thank you all :)__  
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* * *

Chapter 3 – Cammie

Since there is nothing to do until a grab team arrives, I decide to assess my wounds. My head hurts a little and I can tell I'm bleeding from the shoulder. Behind the stairwell to the basement I find a tiny bathroom with a dusty mirror. I look at my reflection and find a girl, no a woman, standing tall and straight. _I've come a long way since graduation._ I look a little different since then, but not much. My face is a bit sharper and has a few wrinkles, but I'm the same Chameleon. The notoriety I had as a senior has worn off a bit, and sometimes people don't even recognize who I am until I tell them my name.

A sudden wave of nausea overcomes me and I find myself heaving in front of the toilet. All that comes up is a clear liquid, telling me I haven't eaten in a while. After a couple of minutes I get up and wash my face off in the sink. _I wonder what day it is._ A sense of panic rushes through my mind and I worry that I've missed another chunk of my life, but then I remind myself that it's only been a day or two at least. My clothes are still the same and they aren't that dirty, and I look completely healthy unlike the brainwashed girl from the first semester of senior year.

The pain in my head is a lot scarier than the scratch on my left shoulder, but I clean it with some antiseptic I found in the cabinet and go back into the kitchen. Since I have no memory after meeting Hakim Ketab on Tuesday afternoon, I decide to dig around the place to see if anything will spark a memory. I rummage through the papers on the desk and come up with nothing of value besides "Monsieur Djaout's" passport. His name is Jean Djaout and is from Algeria. _That explains the passport, and the desert surrounding me._ I'm probably somewhere in the middle of the Sahara.

Walking back to my chair, I hear a chopper in the distance. I turn sharply to look into the distance and pinpoint the helicopter that is unmistakably Interpol. Suddenly, another wave of nausea hits me. I expect to throw up again and my eyes begin searching for a trash bin. Instead, I feel nothing but a sharp pain in the back of my head. Darkness begins to creep in around the edges when my hand grips the chair; I'm barely holding onto consciousness when my support breaks from under me and I fall onto my knees. I can pick out a few shouts like, "There she is!", "Oh my goodness, is she okay?", and "Get the medic, now!" And then there's nothing.

* * *

Zach

My phone buzzes me awake and I look to see who is calling. _Liz_. I feel an ache in my heart as I ask, "Liz, was she there?"

"Yes," she replies in a stoic manner.

"So she's okay?" I sigh with relief. I suddenly feel the worry lift off my chest, but a sense of anger coursing through my blood replaces it. _She shouldn't have run off, does she not understand how much people, _I, _care –_

"Not exactly. They picked her up about ten minutes ago. When they got there she-" Liz pauses, "she wasn't conscious…"

"God," I interrupt as the blood drains from my face.

"…It gets worse. The medic, um, while he was working on her in the helicopter, Cammie, uh, began to seize." _Cammie._ My throat tightens and tears begin welling up in my eyes.

"Well do they know what's wrong with her?" I ask in desperation.

"Not exactly. She's had some sort of head trauma." _Not again._ "They are on their way to the hospital inside the Paris Headquarters of Interpol. You should meet them there. I've arranged a helicopter to pick you up in fifteen on the roof of the hotel."

All I can muster out of my lips is a short, "Thanks," and hang up. I plop onto the bed and look up toward the ceiling. I can't let myself think about it, my mind will wander too much toward _what if._

Grabbing the packed suitcase off the floor, I leave the room and head toward the roof.

* * *

Cammie

I wake in a soft, four-post bed with a purple comforter and a lavender canopy. Light pours in through the windows that line the wall on my right. I get up and look between the shades and see mountains surrounding the entire house. I turn around to find men's clothing in a closet across from me. _Zach? _

Quietly, I tiptoe through the door and follow a short hallway. I hear a child's laughter and a familiar voice say, "Shh. Your mother is sleeping. Don't want to wake her up, do we?"

"Nope." I hear a little girl giggle.

I come out from behind the corner and see a small child on Zach's lap. They're sitting on a couch in a large, open living 's an older style home, and reminds me of a Gallagher common room.

"Mommy!" the little girl shouts, and runs straight toward me. All I can do is stare out of confusion. I look to my left hand and see a beautiful ring shining in the sunlight seeping from a stained-glass window. _When did Zach and I get _married? _When did we have a _kid_?_ I look back at the girl; she has my eyes and Zach's face.

It's all too much for me and before I know it, the lights inside my head go out.

* * *

Zach

The trip takes exactly one hour and thirty-nine minutes. I step off the helicopter and follow an agent named Operative Dunning. We're on the roof of Interpol, and security meets us at the door to the inside. They take my weapons, but I don't mind. I just want to get downstairs to see her.

Dunning leads me inside and down two flights of stairs. We turn the corner and I see a man standing with his back toward me. I would recognize him anywhere.

"Dad."

He spins around and opens his arms, "Zach," he says. His eyes are filled with sympathy as he brings me into a fatherly embrace. "She's in surgery, son."

"When did she arrive?"

"Twenty minutes ago. She's had some bleeding in her brain. They are operating to stop the bleeding. These doctors are some of the best, you know." he says with a somewhat reassuring smile.

"Yeah, I know." We begin to walk down the corridor in silence. We make a left and I see Liz, Rachel, and Abby sitting in chairs outside an operating room. All three look up and stare at me, but none of them make a sound.

It's going to be a long day.


End file.
